miss_s_b: (Britishness: Rugger)
miss_s_b ([personal profile] miss_s_b) wrote2010-01-18 12:38 am
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Curses! Snooker ones, to be specific.

When I was a nipper we used to watch a lot of sport on the telly. My dad and I both love rugger, obvs, but there was also athletics and tennis and snooker and... ah yes, the snooker. Holly and I have been watching the snooker this week. Holly loves Ronnie O'Sullivan, in a way that reminds me very much of how I used to be about Jimmy White.

ANYWAY. When I was a nipper, whoever we wanted to win would always lose in the final when my mum watched it (Jimmy White in the World Snooker Championships, year after year, being a particular bugbear). So my mum was eventually barred from watching after the semis of any championship we cared about, lest The Curse of Mother affect the result.

Tonight Holly and I were watching the final of the Masters. She was getting very excited because Ronnie was winning, and I had all hell on to persuade her to go to bed. Eventually, when Ronnie was nine frames to six ahead, and only needed one more frame to win, I got her to go.

The final score?

O'Sullivan 9 - 10 Selby.

The curse! It lives on!

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matgb: Artwork of 19th century upper class anarchist, text: MatGB (Default)

[personal profile] matgb 2010-01-18 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
Was it the curse of the mother? Or the curse of the very bored fiancée/stepdad?

Ye gods that was really dull. Still, netbook means I can amuse myself regardless.